DaGui (大贵) Cold Dishes: Because vinegar is delicious

Hello, magical peanuts. In my pre-Beijing existence, I was never really fond of the peanut. If I felt a nut craving, the stores were stocked with an infinite variation of other nuts – smoked almonds, candied cashews, and the oh-so-buttery chocolate-covered macadamias. However, despite its American heritage, the Chinese love peanuts, and most restaurants have some variation as appetizers, and now, I’m a convert. They are just so damn good. (So good, in fact, that we’ve decided to recreate a bunch of peanut recipes for our next project. But I digress.)

The vinegar peanuts at Dagui (大贵) sparked my new-found adoration for the humble peanut, and I’ve become a devotee of this small Guizhou restaurant tucked inside the hutongs of old Beijing. There are easily a dozen great dishes here, but this post is dedicated to cold, vinegary appetizers (凉菜), which epitomize the winning combination of spicy-sourness that is the key note of Guizhou cuisine.

Special Flavor Peanuts （怪卤花生）

First things first. These peanuts are amazing. I can gobble up a dish myself, one heaping spoon at a time, and feel happy in the world around me. Preparation is simple, but the combination of intense flavors and aromatics appeals to me immensely. It’s essentially deep-fried peanuts, which are covered in a syrup made from Chinese black rice vinegar and sugar, and tossed with a combination of chopped raw garlic, cilantro, spring onions, and “smelly fish grass” (鱼腥草 or 折耳根) a herb special to this region. It smells a bit like pee and is a type of wild fern root. Bitter, but I think it rounds out the flavors well. Thus, what you end up with are sweet and sour peanuts, which alone are delicious, but the strong punchy flavors of the herbs, in particular the cilantro and smelly fish grass, work fantastically with the earthiness of peanuts.

Guizhou Style Cucumber (黔味排黄瓜)

The other must-get cold dish at Dagui are the cold cucumbers. Much like the peanuts, cold cucumbers are a staple of many a Chinese menu here. Again, simple preparation, insanely addictive taste. Just chunks of cucumbers, tossed in some combination of vinegar, sugar, salt, MSG, sesame oil, tons of garlic and often chili (sauce or flakes). The cucumber chunks are pai-ed, meaning smacked, which breaks them open and creates more surface area to soak up sauces. In terms of addictiveness, it’s a toss-up between this and the peanuts. However, seeing as this is China and each dish is under 2 dollars, I rarely never have to be disloyal and choose one over the other.

Rice Tofu Salad (农家米豆腐）

Not a little bit odd looking, this lime-green cold tofu dish at Dagui is highly recommended by the owners. It’s not actually tofu, but rather rice flour made to imitate the texture and flavor of tofu. Which, if you think about it, is fantastic. Chinese cooks use tofu to create fake meat all the time, so it’s about time tofu got some respect and there was imitation tofu. It’s slippery and smooth, soft enough to make the short journey from dish to mouth a dangerous one, as chopstick pressure is liable to split the chunk in half and then you’ve lost your mouthful. Like most cold dishes here, it’s flavored with vinegar, with some peanuts, cilantro and picked radish to top it off. The flavor is subtle in comparison to the other dishes, but more enjoyable for it.

Sour and Cold Noodles (酸辣蕨根粉)

Cold, slippery noodles floating in a sea of vinegar and soy. It’s lovely, and Christine is particularly found of this dish. The noodles are made from some form of root vegetable (maybe arrowroot?), and the sauce is far more vinegar-heavy than the others. It also has a healthy dose of fresh chopped chili peppers, and the burn of the peppers and the pleasing mouth-puckering sourness are a great combo. Uninspiring topping though, the same peanut/radish/green onion combo as the tofu, but that’s only bothersome when you order a whole meal just consisting of these cold dishes (which I often do).

At this point, it’s quite obvious that I have a penchant for all sour things, which is a large part of why I enjoy these Dagui appetizers dishes so much. Each dish is in part just a vehicle for conveying vinegar into my system, but honestly, I see nothing wrong with that. In my defense, the textures are all different, and thus each dish is delicious in its own way. Though it’s still freezing in Beijing (though it’s the end of April!), I’m smelling the advent of warmer times and think nothing will suit Beijing’s sweltering summers like this slew of cold dishes and a couple bottles of Tsingdao.

69 Daxing Hutong, off Jiaodaokou Nandajie, Dongcheng District. 东城区交道口大兴胡同69号, 东城. 86 10 6407 1800